


I’ve got 100 problems and drinking is, like 5 of them...

by UnimpairedDreams



Series: Rambles of an Unrequited Love [2]
Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alcoholism, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 00:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10560160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnimpairedDreams/pseuds/UnimpairedDreams
Summary: You’re Trixie Mattel but it doesn’t suit you. You, a colouring book for the blind that’s so simple a child could read you but no one does except me, and even you don’t laugh anymore. I’m just a coked up alcoholic that always wants the bottle but I can never reach it because even though most of my friends don’t care about me they always have to prevent me from having what I want.(part of "A Parallel Runiverse")





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [late night improvisations](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507614) by [comeapart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/comeapart/pseuds/comeapart). 



> TW - Strong language, Explicit and Adult Content, Drugs and Alcohol.

I’m Katya. I’m a bisexual, transvestite hooker with a refined taste in style and a sense of humour you either love or you hate. I used to be addicted to drugs but now the only addiction I have is you and it’s so cheesy but I love it anyway. I’m cheesy, it’s who I am and although I want to apologised, we both know I can’t.

My friend Alaska used to like my jokes but now she doesn’t laugh anymore.

*

You’re Trixie Mattel but it doesn’t suit you. You, a colouring book for the blind that’s so simple a child could read you but no one does except me, and even you don’t laugh anymore. I’m just a coked up alcoholic that always wants the bottle but I can never reach it because even though most of my friends don’t care about me they always have to prevent me from having what I want.

My next drag show is in P-town and I think I might impersonate you there, not because I’m horrible but because I stare at you so much that I might as well just do you – Not like that, as my friends like to remind me, you have a boyfriend. I know all your mannerisms Barbie; from your laugh to your songs to the weird “Dolly Parton in drag but who’s really a man who loves pink”-esque outfits.

*

Hey pretty lady, I’m Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova and I didn’t expect you to remember who I was so I turned around and smiled in shock as you said Hi.

All the things people say about you are true and god, next time I see you I want to be sober because I need to make sure you aren’t just in my head.

It took a shot and a half of something that I shouldn’t have drunk, or maybe I should, to get up here and ask you this on a night you should be on a date but Trixie, baby, dance with me. Alaska is staring at my ass right now, just as I’m staring at yours. Her’s is purposeful and I know Sharon is questioning it and maybe mine is too but who cares.

*

Hello Beautiful – I’m like a bomb, powerful, explosive and you probably shouldn’t get too close to me because I hurt people. I don’t do it on purpose but it still happens and there’s no use pretending that I’m good for you.

For my second show in San Diego, I lip-synched to a video of you ranting about my lipstick and the crowd loved it almost as much as I love you and I called you the other day but you didn’t pick up, I guess you were with your boyfriend but it still kind of hurts. I’m trying to get off meth but its hard and I’m so glad I never got into the party and play because that is worse than what I’ve got going right now and that’s truly saying something because I haven’t gone to bed sober in a year and a half now – since I met you and when I wake up my hangover cure is to drink more and my way of killing a buzz is to drown it in another poison.

Alaska left me last night, she told me to clean up my act and take care of myself because she cares about me but in return I puked vodka onto her coat and scratched his neck. The latter was by accident - I’m not the devil.

*

Trixie, Trudy, Tatiana, Tracy – That must be your name because even though I have my contacts open I can’t read a word on the screen: is this what happens when you overdose -  Your ex-best friend having to drag you into the apartment she still has a key to because goddamn she loves you and you love her but it’s a Lucy and Rick relationship, a sexless love and I love sex.

It’s a weird career I picked, being a drag queen. It was the one thing I was good at, along with Russian so I made a character and my booking fees are through the window but I still get booked which is good because I don’t know what I would do without drag. I wish I would have done something useful though, like becomes an illustrator because how can you tell your boyfriend’s parents you’re a drag queen without them hating you.

I performed in Boston, in the reeds, last night and I went to make a joke about you but it turned into a monologue I was to shitfaced to stop and so instead on stopping I essentially confessed my heart and I didn’t get any tips last night so I guess that won’t happen again.

*

Hey baby girl, I vomited blood onto my carpet last night and I have a nosebleed twice a day and Alaska wants me to go to the doctors about it but I won’t because I want to spite her and I hate being told what to do.

*

Hi Barbie, I’m Katya and I want to jump into bed with you like you do with your boyfriend but in this reality that I created in my head, you don’t have a boyfriend and Alaska’s happy and Sharon’s happy and god help me beautiful because I think I’m dying over here.

*

Trixie, I’ve seen you drunk once but I don’t care, not in the way every other person does when they talk about the support for the guy whose slowly killing himself and whether he likes it or not, is not going to last to date his muse.

I’ve got 100 problems and drinking is, like 5 of them but you don’t have that problem so I guess you’re one of the lucky few that can get away without substances and can live without a buzz.

Tracy Martel, Barbie girl and cross dresser, we’re in the same place and you smell so good. Trixie Mattel, Tracy, pleased to meet you again I’m the joker and I’m dangerous and you don’t know where your black hood is but that’s okay because I’m not hungry anymore; Because I’m just the laughing stock of the whole town and sometimes you can beat me into surrendering by waving your own pink flag. Maybe you should be Harley Quinn because you seem to have Stockholm’s syndrome around me and No one lasts this long without leaving.

Beca stayed for the longest but even she doesn’t bother anymore.

*

I meet you in a cafe outside of WOW because I need a non alcoholic drink and you laugh at me for not knowing it existed but you still buy me a chamomile tea and look delighted when I say I hate it because it has too much sugar in and you know I drink everything black. You still show me the lyrics for a song you are writing despite the fact it talks about a breakup and even when I ask if you and the guy are still together you refuse to answer and maybe god is real because he finally answered my prayers.

You offer to brush my wig next time I perform because I know you hate how violent I am with a brush, you nicely stroke it through the scruffy blonde wig and you come to watch me. I take off all my clothes and I’m so unusually pale, but nobody cares, because I’m wearing fake tits and no nails and I’m an embarrassment in a wig despite the fact I look nicer than I’ve ever looked before. Afterwards, I manage to find the damn pants again, and I spend the rest of the night with you, out of drag and me of course unwilling to let anyone see the dark bags around my eyes that you get from doing drugs and no amount of sleep can fix because I’ve spent too long hiding them, they aren’t making an appearance now. You watch as I do lines off of a girl I can’t remember the name of, something like Doris or Delia or Delano and you just hold me when things start fading into a blackish red.

You say you want to come and collect me from my door next time we go for coffee and I try to protest but I can’t against you.

You don’t question it when you see dry blood on the carpet or lines I haven’t smoke on my porch or a packet of joints I should have concealed better but you look sad like the first time I got high in front of you and you thought I was doing better because you’re a happy optimist and I love that about you but god I’m not okay.

*

Trixie Mattel, You are something. You’ve kissed me on the forehead 13 times now and I want to text you a joke about it but I don’t think you realise I know. You do it when I’m drunk, or stoned or half asleep or engrossed in contact and you do it so discreetly that I can never tell if you actually kissed me but I’m pretty sure and so I’ll go with it until further notice.

Alaska got a boyfriend. She sat and smoked with me and did the shots we both promised not to do and I told her about you and how I love you and she says we have to kiss before new year because otherwise Sharon wins the bet and I don’t ask what bet that was because I’m not sure if I want to know.

*

Two days ago I promised you I could got a weekend without a drug or alcohol and since then I’ve smoke 47 cigarettes, 57 lines, 23 joints, 5 parts of meth and drank 17 pint of some alcohols I found in my fridge form the times I was a hard drinker. I tell you so many times that I’m sorry, because I’m drunk, but worse than that, I’m high too and you’re looking at me funny and I can’t stop apologising because I am sorry. I’M SORRY. -  With a capital on each letter and a period, because it’s important. I want to kiss you, but you pull away, and you just want to know what is going on. My mouth is numb with pills and your roommate is looking at me as if they’re sorry for me but there is deep-seated embarrassment in their eyes and I’ve never felt so shitty in my life.

*

Hiya my newest paint by number, I only smoked 2 joints today – I did do 5 lines off my porch that almost welded themselves together with the wind but I didn’t drink. We aren’t going to have that talk about how much meth I did but will only make you cry and I hate it when you cry.

I love you when you’re out of drag and happy because your cheeks redden and you can’t see that under your heavy contour just like how you can’t see your pupils widen under those blue contacts that are so carefully inserted into your eyes. You’re easier to flirt with when your face is bare and your eyes are untouched.

*

I’m so addicted to you; I only really want to be near you because all of the other people in my life can annoy me. Like how Alaska won’t tell me the name of her new boyfriend and Sharon won’t tell me how many twinks it took to get over Alaska and Michelle won’t tell me how many times they’ve glanced at each other across the table and how many shots Sharon did when she left the bar. They’re all so scared I’ll do terrible things to myself and they’re so terrified that I’ll give up on you and they know you’re the only thing that keeps me going and keeps me happy.

*

Alaska’s stopped staring at Sharon across the room and Sharon no longer drinks when she leaves because Alaska never leaves her anymore. Maybe one day that could be us.

*

Hi I’m a few dozen Vodka shots on a Tuesday Night. Hi I’m Kitty Kat Katya and I’m so drunk right now because you’ve ruined me Trixie Mattel, You’ve ruined me and I just want a chance to ruin you because that’s what I do and ill make it up to you like I makeup everything these days.

I grew up in a small town in Boston and I don’t know why I ever left because West Hollywood isn’t great for people with addictions or maybe it’s the fact that everyone in WeHo has an addiction, an exploitable trait.

*

You see me at a club, six feet high and out of drag but still recognisably Katya. You make me drink water by putting the cup to my mouth and slowly tipping my head back as you cradle it in one hand. You want me to lie down but I don’t want to and half of the floor is piss anyway so id fit right in but you put my head in your lap and you smell so good. What did you do to smell so nice because it definitely isn’t weed.

You ask me if I want to meet for coffee at the cafe I didn’t know existed and once again you laugh that golden laugh and we agree on eleven so you take me home and tuck me in and when you’ve locked the door I hear you post the keys through the letter box and I wanted you to keep those keys but oh well.

I wake up at ten forty five and I have to sprint out the door and I forgot to put concealer on so the woman at the counter just looks at me with pity in her eyes as I order a Black Americano and Candyfloss Latte. I gag when the sugary drink hits the back of my throat because I haven’t tasted anything this sweet in a long time because drugs taste so bitter and after alcohol you can’t even taste it anymore.

You tell me that I look hungry, and I haven’t eaten in a week, so I let you buy me one of those waffles they make and I pick pieces off like a vulture. You call me “Bri,” in passing and I forget how to breathe and I don’t know whether it’s because my body can’t handle food anymore or if it’s because you care about me enough to give me a nickname.

*

Hey Brian, I’m Bri and I’m not in drag right now because there’s no fat to corset around and the hollows in my face need pads of their own and I come to your apartment and you hold me for an hour or seven and I’m so stone cold sober that I’ve pulled half my eyebrow out so you help me shave them off and it’s the best sleep I’ve had in two years.

You take me home in the morning and tell me I should shower but you still leave because you’ve got a date and three hours later you text me and tell me to put the cigarette down and put some smart clothes on because you’re taking me out and I’m so happy I even draw on some eyebrows and for the second night in a row I fall asleep with you an my arms and you still smell nice even after hanging out with me and maybe I smell nice too.

*

I can see your face crumble as I make out with a twink in the corner of a bar after being high on adrenaline and drunk on Becks Blue and you pull me aside later and slap me but I don’t care because you’re jealous and I think you want me Trixie.

*

Sharon and Alaska are engaged but I guess they’re making up for the lost time and they invite me as Alaska’s best man and I stand there proudly because you’re my date for the wedding and you look so nice in a tux and Alaska brings me up on stage halfway through the party and you hold my hand as she congratulates me on my speech and almost hands me an alcoholic cocktail but then hands me a Becks and I love holding your hands so much that I make you dance with me for three whole songs before we need to collapse into each other’s arms.

Best sex of my life.

*

You tell me you love me at 5am, muffled into the bed sheets as your alarm sets off for you to go to the gym and you let me sleep for another hour with the promise of a fried breakfast when you get back. You cook meat for me despite the fact we both know you won’t eat it but I need protein and so you’ll do it for me.

*

We live in the same apartment now since you raided my house and got rid of my drugs and you’ve gotten awfully good at smelling alcohol on my breath and I know you want me to quit smoking but we’ll take one step at a time.

I’ve got 99 problems and me loving you is about 96 of them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I'm realising that a lot of my fanfictions are in the same universe so I'm going to call this universe "A Parallel Runiverse" and I'll tag the rest of my stuff in this universe that too x


End file.
